Faust isn't stingy with apologies, but it's rare to get one he doesn't want to turn away. It's maybe the first time an apology from him has felt deserved, but it still makes him sheepish to accept it, eyes darting up and back down again.

"...Thank you..."

He's not expecting more. He catches the flush in Faust's cheeks and, if he were able to, he'd probably match. Instead, his head ducks. More than embarrassment though, he feels unease. Why should anything change? Why should Faust have to go out of his way for him? It's too simple. Too easy.

Too selfish.

"Do you really... want that...?" He asks. He looks up at last, frowning. "You don't... feel the same..." It's not a question. "You don't like... being close... Do you actually... want me near... like that...? Or do you just... think you should...?"